


Back in the Hands of Man

by JeweledAnima



Category: Final Fantasy XII
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Cunnilingus, Fake Character Death, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-13
Updated: 2019-12-13
Packaged: 2021-02-25 20:55:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21781819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JeweledAnima/pseuds/JeweledAnima
Summary: After the events of the Sky Fortress Bahamut, Basch thinks Balthier and Fran are dead.  Then, one night in Archades, a mysterious visitor appears at the window of the would-be Judge.
Relationships: Balthier/Basch fon Ronsenburg
Comments: 4
Kudos: 44





	Back in the Hands of Man

**Author's Note:**

  * For [NobleNeon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NobleNeon/gifts).



The events following the  _ Bahamut _ swept them all off in different directions, leaving few chances for anyone to catch their breath. Ashe returned to her throne with all the grace typical of her, and she quickly began the restoration of Rabanastre in earnest. Vaan and Penelo returned to their place with Migelo, toughened by more battles than they cared to count, and yet bouncing back into the rhythm of daily life with that peculiar flexibility of youth. Basch, too, remained in Rabanastre for a time, watching the dust settle, lending his arm whenever the city might need it —in effect, he kept himself inhumanly busy . 

Basch was no stranger to loss. It seemed to court him with a particular fondness, and at this point, Basch knew all too well how to handle its advances. If he kept his hands busy, if he continued to protect and to build, then grief could not fully pierce him. He did not allow himself to mourn just yet. 

During the aftermath, he had advised Larsa not to pronounce Gabranth dead. “My brother’s work is yet left unfinished,” Basch had told the new young emperor. It pained him to see such tragic maturity in such young eyes. “Once I see to it that Dalmasca has settled, I shall take his place at your side, should you allow it.” Larsa, in his usual well-spoken manner, assured him that such an arrangement would be an honor, and thus Basch had a new life plan laid out for him in the blink of an eye.

When the time came to leave Rabanastre, Basch found himself awash in an odd sense of relief, though he loved the city dearly. It simply had too many ghosts. Vossler, Reks, Rasler, many more of his fellow knights —and now, yet another pair, a loss he felt with a singular deepness that emanated, in part, from the sheer shock of its blow . Balthier and Fran. When they had gone down with the  _ Bahamut,  _ a part of Basch had followed them, leaving an open wound that couldn’t be healed by any magick. Whenever he entered the Sandsea, he could almost hear a familiar chuckle emanating from their old favorite table, could almost smell the familiar woodsy scent that always followed the two of them. He missed Fran’s calm wisdom, her gentle thoughtfulness. He and she had gotten along very well, considering their relative closeness in age, and he missed their quiet, musing conversations deeply. And Balthier… ah. There was another story.

Basch had never allowed himself time for romance. Though he and Vossler had shared a mutual interest when they were young, their romantic involvement didn’t last overlong, in no small part due to their respective diligence as soldiers. Since then, Basch couldn’t remember the last time he had taken any sort of lover —he hadn’t allowed himself the time, nor the vulnerability. And then Balthier came along.

From the moment of their meeting, Basch had been surprised at Balthier’s willingness to trust him, to  _ defend  _ him. After all, Basch certainly would have done neither. Upon their initial return to Rabanastre after Barheim, Balthier had even offered to buy him a drink. Basch had politely refused, thinking their interactions better over and done with—yet life had a way of bowling on in ways Basch rarely expected. The days spent side-by-side with the sky pirates continued onward, and Basch, largely against his will, found himself growing more and more enamored of his young companion; his cleverness, his charm, his hot temper. Balthier was everything Basch was not, and Basch was drawn to him like a fish to water. 

Despite all his careful guardedness, all his stoicism, Fran had caught him leaving a lingering gaze on Balthier one night over the fire. She had given him a knowing smile, and Basch had looked away much too quickly, feeling a flush rise to his cheeks. He remembered how often he had told himself  _ “no,”  _ how often he reminded himself that, even should they all make it out alive, Balthier’s love lay elsewhere. Basch knew well enough that he, a haggard old soldier, had little he could offer over the ageless beauty of the viera—and yet, only a few nights after the moment over the fire, Balthier had taken his hand and...  _ propositioned  _ him. 

From there, Basch was perfectly smitten, though the two of them went to great lengths to hide their involvement from everyone aside from Fran and, to a degree, Ashe. During their rare moments of reprieve, when the two children had time to go stock their supplies, Balthier would find moments to steal Basch away, showering him with heavy kisses, giving himself freely to Basch’s callused hands. Those moments were some of the happiest of Basch’s life. 

Then, just like that, that chapter had ended. In its place, Basch was left with two more ghosts haunting his periphery—one whose touch his body could still feel echoes of. 

Upon journeying to Archades, Basch found taking up his brother’s mantle to be disconcertingly easy. He cut his hair short for the first time in many, many years, and when he looked in the mirror, he could have sworn it was not his own face he saw, but Noah’s—once he donned the plate of Judge Magister, only the scar above his brow bore testament to their difference. The newly appointed emperor Larsa covered the new gaps in “Gabranth’s” knowledge with the excuse of memory loss, using the new scar as evidence of a particularly bad knock to the head. Fortunately enough for Basch, Noah seemed not to have been particularly personable, and no one asked many questions. 

Basch kept himself busy, running himself ragged between patrols, meetings, and simply reading up on the duties of Judge Magister. He had a part to play, and was determined to play it well. Larsa was a worthy charge, noble and idealistic, and Basch grew fond of him quickly, as he was certain Noah once had. Gradually, weeks went by, and Basch eventually settled into a routine. When the day’s work was done, he would retire to his room, strip off the heavy armor he felt ill-suited to, and will himself immediately to fall asleep. 

One night, however, sleep eluded him. He lay awake, listening to the quiet hum of the city outside his open window. He was restless—the city sounds were too loud, the room too cold, the bed too big. Without meaning to, he thought of Balthier—of his clever, crooked smile, his cheeky laughter, the smell of his hair. Basch sighed deeply, trying to push the thoughts from his mind. It wouldn’t do to dwell on the past, on could-have-beens.

Just when sleep was beginning to lid Basch’s eyes, he heard a small sound at his window. The slightest of creaks, a sudden gust of wind— _ someone was trying to break in.  _ Basch sprang from the bed, retrieving his sword from where it leaned against the wall just as a hooded figure slipped lithely through the window.

Basch was confident in his ability to take down some reckless fool who thought to break into the palace. Therefore, instead of attacking immediately, he hissed a question, sword at the ready. “What do you think to accomplish, breaking into the room of a Judge?”

The hooded figure said nothing, merely straightening out and brushing himself off. There was no move towards defense or attack, and Basch was confused enough that he missed the familiarity of the intruder’s posture.

“I should think you of all people would know something of returning from the dead, Captain” said the man, casting off his hood. 

Basch’s sword clattered to the ground. It couldn’t be. That face, those eyes...

_ “Balthier?” _ It had to be some sort of trick, an illusion, a dream. And yet, there he was, standing silhouetted against the night sky of the window, adjusting his sleeves. “Is it really— _ how?” _

“Now, you know it would take much more than a measly little explosion to get rid of me,” said Balthier. His voice sounded tired, but it was  _ his  _ voice, silvery and smooth, and Basch felt his hands begin to tremble. He took a few shaky steps forward, needing a better look.

“I thought you dead,” Basch breathed.

Balthier chuckled. “That seems that happens to our little menagerie quite a lot. But you know Fran and me, always finding our way out of sticky situations.”

“Fran, as well? Where is she?” Basch glanced out the window before his gaze returned to Balthier’s face.

“She dropped me off,” Balthier replied matter-of-factly. “Stole a rather nice hoverbike. I expect she’s zipping around the city in the meantime.”

“You jest,” said Basch, “as I look upon him who I thought to have lost.” He drew closer, taking one of Balthier’s hands in his own. Still covered in rings, still curiously well-manicured. Still his. Basch drew the fingertips to his lips, his eyes screwed shut. “It really is you.”

Balthier drew his other hand up to Basch’s cheek, a slight tremor in the fingers the only sign that he was anything but ineffable. “And it’s really you.” He trailed a thumb across Basch’s cheekbone before running his fingers through the newly-shorn blond hair. “I do miss your old mane, though.”

Basch laughed shakily, allowing his eyes to form the tears they had so desired for so long. “As do I.” He pulled Balthier closer, then, into a full embrace, burying his face in the crook of Balthier’s neck, drinking in his scent. Spices and fragrant woods, underlaid by faint ozone—it was truly him.

“You’ll forgive my not coming to see you sooner,” Balthier said quietly, trailing his fingers through Basch’s short hair. “We thought it wise to keep a low profile for a while. Let the dust settle.”

“Not so much as a note?” Basch reprimanded, though his heart was only half in it. He didn’t have the will to be angry. At least not yet.

Balthier chuckled sheepishly. “I wanted only to see you in person.”

“So you broke in?”

“Once a sky pirate, always a sky pirate.” 

“You simply have a flair for the dramatic.” Basch drew away, simply looking at Balthier’s face, at every line and curve. Those sea green eyes, the clever mouth, the slightest upturn of the nose… Basch would have been content merely to look on that face until the end of his days. Before Balthier could issue a witty retort, Basch kissed him deeply, slowly, savoring each moment like it was his last. Balthier kissed him back, pressing their bodies together and gently cupping Basch’s face. Warmth spread from Basch’s lips all through his body, and he felt he could stay this way forever, simply holding Balthier there in his arms. Though Basch broke away first for breath, Balthier returned with a vigor significantly less chaste.

“Not a day has gone by that I haven’t thought of you,” Balthier murmured between heady kisses. “That I haven’t wanted you.”

Basch laughed breathlessly. “I think you dead for months, and you return out of the blue for pleasure only?”

Balthier withdrew, feigning injury. “I came the first moment I could, and for more than just that.”

“I believe you,” Basch replied, trailing his fingertips over Balthier’s cheekbone. Perhaps he ought to have been more upset, but he simply couldn’t, not when all he could feel was relief and love and  _ want.  _ “But perhaps I would not have minded either way, so long as I saw you.”

“You’re a sap, you know. You really ought to defend yourself more.”

“Lecture me later,” Basch murmured, kissing him again. His body coursed with the relief and passion he had refused to let spill forth before, and he drew Balthier closer, his hand gentle at the base of Balthier’s skull. It felt so  _ good  _ not to hurt.

Their kiss grew more intense, Balthier lingering on Basch’s bottom lip, catching it slightly in his teeth. Basch inhaled sharply at that, absently massaging Balthier’s shoulders with his thumbs. Balthier chuckled softly. “So keen for a dead man,” he said, dropping his hand down to Basch’s chest. It was bare, as he typically slept, and the cool night air breezing in through the window had made the dusky nipples hard. Balthier’s thumb brushed one—Basch couldn’t say whether it was intentional or not—and Basch shivered involuntarily, kissing Balthier’s temple. 

“I thought to converse for awhile, but it seems you have other ideas,” Balthier murmured into Basch’s neck, trailing his hands to roam across Basch’s back. 

“I will do whatever you wish,” said Basch breathily, tilting his chin up and to the side as Balthier entreated at his throat.

“I know, sweet thing,” Balthier replied, kissing the sensitive shell of Basch’s ear. “But for tonight, let me take care of you. Does that sound agreeable?”

“I could think of nothing moreso.” Basch felt his joy coursing through his veins, making him feel buoyant and weightless as Balthier dragged his lips down to his earlobe, nipping lightly. One hand pulled Basch down for another kiss, and the other found a delicate nipple, pinching and rubbing lightly. Basch gasped at that, trembling slightly as Balthier’s lips trailed down his throat, kissing the collarbone, lighting on the other nipple in a blaze of wet warmth. Basch couldn’t keep from groaning at the sensation, finding the laces that held Balthier’s vest together and tugging them apart until it managed to slip off.

“I’ve missed you,” Balthier whispered, his breath warm on Basch’s chest. His shirt hung loosely now, and Basch took a moment to slip it off and over his head before stealing another kiss. Balthier’s body was warm against his own, and his hands roamed, finding the familiar divots and scars. 

“Beautiful,” murmured Basch, breaking away to survey the taut, lithe figure before him.

“Flattery will get you everywhere,” said Balthier with a wry smile. “Come here.” He hooked his hands behind Basch’s neck, stepping backward and taking the larger man with him until his knees caught on the bed, sending them both falling back onto the downy mattress. Balthier sprawled below Basch with a look the latter had come to recognize intimately. Basch, though, paused for a moment, drawing his fingers over the features of Balthier’s face. 

“You aren’t another dream,” he said quietly, looking up through his pale lashes.

“If I were, I’d consider myself quite the lucky one,” Balthier quipped. There was a faint blush on his cheeks, and his green eyes shone in the dim lamplight. His fingers were still laced behind Basch’s neck, and he pulled him into another fiery kiss, kicking off his sandals and curling his legs around Basch’s back. “Come on.”

Basch didn’t need to hear more. His lips and tongue began exploring the curves of Balthier’s body in earnest, locking his fingers with the other man’s. Balthier made small, breathy sounds as Basch’s tongue hit sweet spots on his throat and chest, squirming in pleasure when Basch worked his nipple with his teeth.

“What part of ‘let  _ me  _ take care of  _ you’  _ did you not understand?” Balthier managed, breathless as Basch began massaging his crotch gently with one knee. He wasn’t even sure if Basch knew precisely what he was doing.

“It needn’t only be so,” Basch replied, his voice low. Ever thoughtful. Balthier made a  _ tsk  _ sound, wriggling until he managed to flip their positions. 

“You’re going to tear your way out of those sleep pants if I don’t do something,” said Balthier, slipping down between Basch’s legs. He watched Basch’s chest rise and fall as he slipped his hand beneath the waistband, sensed the tautening of Basch’s thighs as cool air met his lower half.

“B-Balthier,” he stammered, propping himself up on his elbows. At this point, he was almost fully hard, and Balthier’s thumbs rubbing circles on his hips did little to stop it from hardening further. 

“Hush,” whispered Balthier, placing a finger on Basch’s lips before dragging it slowly,  _ painfully  _ slowly, down Basch’s torso, following the blond trail to where it thickened into curls at the base of his cock.

Basch groaned, letting his head fall back as Balthier took his feather-light touch up the shaft, drawing a little circle on the leaking tip. 

“I’ve missed  _ this,”  _ Balthier purred, kissing the tops of Basch’s legs, trailing his tongue from thigh to pelvis, at last lighting on the base of Basch’s cock. Basch shuddered as Balthier’s hand formed a fist around his shaft, planting a kiss on the head.

“Oh,  _ Balthier,”  _ Basch moaned as Balthier began pumping his fist, slow and steady the way Basch liked. 

“Have I told you how much I love your voice?” Balthier crooned, adjusting his position slightly. “I can’t wait to hear more of that deep rumble tonight.”

“Ah —  _ ah, please _ —” Basch’s legs trembled, his toes curling as Balthier took the head into his mouth, working his way down to meet his fist. His lips stretched to accommodate the girth, and his tongue worked at the thick vein on the underside in a way that made Basch’s elbows fall out from beneath him.

Balthier let go of Basch’s cock with his hand, instead using it to steady himself on Basch’s thigh as he worked the length deeper into his throat. Basch moaned freely between gasps, reaching out to run his hands through Balthier’s hair, feeling as Balthier bobbed deeper and deeper. Eventually, Balthier managed to bottom out, his throat looking impossibly full, and Basch nearly sobbed when Balthier withdrew wetly, leaving a string of saliva between his lips and the tip for a moment before he began again in earnest. Basch’s legs wrapped around Balthier’s hips, ankles digging in harder than he intended, and Balthier wriggled slightly beneath him. His throat was warm and tight around Basch’s cock, and heat began to build steadily behind Basch’s navel. 

“I—Balthier—please, I’m going to— _ ah _ —?” Balthier had withdrawn quickly, gripping the base of Basch’s shaft for just long enough to bring him back from the edge. Basch panted breathlessly, looking down at Balthier in confusion and desire.

“Apologies, my love,” said Balthier, wiping his mouth off on the back of his hand. “But I don’t want it to end there for tonight.”

_ It wouldn’t,  _ Basch wanted to say, wanting to chase the orgasm he had almost reached, but he knew Balthier wouldn’t keep him waiting long. Basch was not the impatient one. 

Balthier stood, reaching into one of his pockets and withdrawing a vial of elixir. He placed it on the pillow next to Basch’s head, giving a wry wink before sliding his ridiculously tight pants down his legs, waggling his hips slightly to display the ample curve of his ass. Soon, he was entirely bare, silhouetted against the lamplight, all curves and muscles. He slid his way between Basch’s legs, spreading them further as he drew himself up to kiss Basch once more. Basch moaned into the other man’s lips, tasting himself on Balthier’s tongue, feeling Balthier’s erection hard and present against his own. 

“I want to take you,” Balthier breathed in Basch’s ear. “I want you inside me.”

Basch moaned, cock twitching, and he canted his hips against his will. “I’ll do anything you wish.”

“I know you will,” crooned Balthier, sitting back on his knees and taking the vial of elixir in his hand. At some point, Balthier had discovered its incredible effect as a lubricant, and they always enjoyed using it whenever they had one to spare. Pouring the shiny liquid onto his fingers, Balthier also spilled some down Basch’s cock, spreading it liberally through a few strokes of his hand. Basch shuddered, eyes closing for a moment as he was overcome with the exquisite, tingling warmth of the elixir. 

“I won’t lose you to the fancy potion just yet, now, will I?” Balthier said with a breathless chuckle. He poured more out onto his fingers as Basch laughed through his nose, managing to lift the lids of his eyes and gripping Balthier’s hips. Balthier began working at his own hole, smearing it with the iridescent liquid and slipping a finger inside. His mouth formed a small  _ o,  _ his brow furrowing as he leaned back on one arm, the other slowly working his fingers inside of himself. Basch knew he was showing off, and he enjoyed every moment, dragging his hands up and down the sides of Balthier’s torso, eyes torn between Balthier’s pretty face and his slowly stretching entrance. 

“Let me help,” Basch insisted, tugging Balthier forward and earning a small grunt in response. He drew Balthier’s thighs up until they were straddled across his face, and he reveled in the choked gasp that escaped Balthier’s lips as Basch’s tongue took the place of his fingers. 

“Where did you  _ learn  _ this?” Balthier moaned, throwing his head back as Basch laved his tongue over the slick hole, drops of elixir tingling his lips. “So noble and demure, and then you do something filthy like  _ this _ — _ ah _ —!” Basch had reached around to Balthier’s cock, pumping it in time with the strokes of his tongue, and Balthier moved his hips in rhythm, groaning in pleasure as he gripped the post of the bed. Basch naturally couldn’t speak, but he hummed his response, wetting and relaxing Balthier’s entrance further with every stroke of his tongue.

“Gods, if you keep up like that—” gasped Balthier, another shudder coursing through his body. As Basch caught his breath, Balthier took advantage of the break in sensation, sliding back down to Basch’s hips. 

“I’ve wanted this so badly,” he breathed, lining Basch’s cock up with his thoroughly slicked entrance. “You inside me again. You feel so  _ good _ —” A small hiss escaped Balthier as Basch’s shaft slid inside, and he began to work himself down, thrusting his hips slowly and deeply, inch by inch. Basch couldn’t help crying out at the tight, wet heat that enveloped his length, his pupils blown wide as he gripped the sheets. He felt like he was  _ melting,  _ melting into the man he so adored. He barely had to move, Balthier riding him with a perfect expertise that would make a whore blush. 

“You feel—incredible,” Basch managed, hands once again returning to Balthier’s hips, and he groaned deeply, arching his back as Balthier bottomed out. 

“As do you,” Balthier replied, a blissed-out look on his face. “Filling me up so well—my handsome captain…” He rolled his hips with a groan, taking Basch as deep as he could and tearing a deep rumble of pleasure from Basch’s throat. Basch began to work his hips, unable to speak, meeting Balthier with every thrust, the sound of skin slapping on skin echoing in his ears. Distantly, he wondered if anyone could hear them. Less distantly, he didn’t care. His eyes fixed on Balthier’s elegant face, the half-lidded eyes, the pout of the lips; his lithe torso, muscles rippling with every motion, his skin smooth and supple beneath Basch’s hands; his long, pretty cock bouncing with each snap of their hips. Basch wanted to kiss that bright pink head, thinking of the occasions when Balthier had been the one fucking  _ him _ . Balthier always made him feel so  _ good.  _

Balthier increased his speed, leaning over to brace himself on the headboard, sweat trickling down his brow, chest rising and falling with his rapid breaths. He was so  _ beautiful,  _ his ass swallowing Basch’s cock like it was made for the task _.  _ Slowly and steadily, Basch felt the heat building in his navel, moaning freely as Balthier milked his cock with his ass. Basch couldn’t ignore Balthier’s own weeping cock any longer; he began stroking it in earnest, keeping time with their other movements, and Balthier uttered a shattered gasp, his mouth falling open and his head lolling back. 

“I want you to fill me up, Basch,” he moaned. “Cum for me, cum inside me,  _ please _ —!”

Basch couldn’t stop himself from cresting at that, snapping his hips up and into Balthier erratically as he cried out in pure ecstasy, feeling himself spill around his length and deep into Balthier’s body. His hands moved to grip Balthier’s hips so hard they almost bruised, and he continued to twitch from the aftershocks of his orgasm. Balthier reacting in kind, Basch’s cock still deep inside him. Agonizingly slowly, he began to work himself off Basch’s length, starting to jack himself off as he felt Basch’s seed slowly begin to spill from him.

Through his blissed-out exhaustion, Basch managed to slip down to Balthier’s weeping length, surprising Balthier by taking it in his mouth and working it deep into his throat. Already overstimulated, Balthier didn’t last long, climaxing with a mighty shudder as Basch swallowed, a few stray ropes of white catching in his beard as Balthier withdrew. Both of them were breathing hard, messes of sweat and cum, but that didn’t stop them from kissing one another again, deeply and passionately. Balthier tenderly held the sides of Basch’s face, Basch’s hands wrapped close around Balthier’s shoulders, and they held their kiss long and steady. Neither had felt so good in a long while.

“Do you forgive me, then?” Balthier murmured, collapsing down at Basch’s side, acutely aware of the stickiness between his thighs.

“I forgave you long ago already,” Basch replied sleepily, tucking Balthier closer into his well-muscled arms. They lay there in perfect, peaceful silence, and even Balthier, usually so adamant on cleaning up, fell asleep in moments. They could take care of things in the morning.

~*~

Just before dawn, as they had agreed, Fran rode her new hoverbike up to the window of Basch’s room. Their signal had not been laid out, and a peal of anxiety shot through her as she flew closer. Fully ready to leap and draw her bow, she peered inside—and immediately caught sight of the two naked bodies nestled together on the bed, chests rising and falling in the peaceful rhythm of sleep. The short bout of apprehension melted away at the recognition, and she smiled to herself as she sped away. It looked like all had gone perfectly well. And now she had more time to spend on the magnificent bike.  __


End file.
